


Batober Prompts

by denatured



Series: Batober Prompts [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batober, Drabble, F/M, One-Shot Collection, challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denatured/pseuds/denatured
Summary: Saw the Batober (spin on Inktober) prompts from @ChrisSamnee on Twitter and thought that they'd make fresh writing prompts for this month.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel
Series: Batober Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966960
Kudos: 9





	Batober Prompts

**Author's Note:**

> My spin on the Batober prompts on Twitter, a collection of slow-burn & salacious one-shots.
> 
> I’m collaborating with the wonderful Ornelasse to develop fan art for these pieces. Here is her work for Trouble: https://ornelasse.tumblr.com/post/631704174896267264/dr-harleen-quinzel-asking-for-trouble-an. Give her a follow + read her fics!

With a shove, she opened the door. Harleen walked through and into the dimly-lit stairwell, the pale yellow light glaring into the enclosed corridor leading to the lower decks of the hospital. The stairwell smelled faintly of Clorox bleach, sweat, and something that Harleen couldn't quite label. She began walking. The thud of her dusty Chelsea boots reverberated up and down the stairs. She felt a pang in her stomach from the stale morning coffee that she downed before driving back to Arkham.

It was three A.M. She replayed the moment over in her head.

"We're at the last five minutes of our session. Mister, er, J- is there anything that you'd like to say before I see you next week?" she asked, her voice tired.

It was their second session. They sat in complete silence for nearly an hour in his cell. Not from Harleen not trying, she tried to initiate a dialogue with Joker three times. Each time she approached a topic, she was met with silence and a lazy stare. She thought that she saw him roll his eyes once. It was the last few minutes of the session, and Harleen shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I-" she began but was suddenly interrupted.

"What do you, uh, _want_ me to say?"

Harleen's eyes bolted from her notes to the man sitting, handcuffed, across the table from her. "I-er- was intending that we could discuss your family-" she braced herself for radio silence again. Joker's tongue darted out of his mouth as he licked the corners of his lips. He tilted his head and looked at Harleen curiously.

"Do you always do tha **t**?" he asked softly.

"Do what?" Harleen responded, even more self-conscious than she was before.

"Hold your breath when you ask a question. Now, I'm no, ah, _do **c**_ tor, but I would say that you're nervous. Are you _nerv_ ous, Dr. Quin **z** el?"

Harleen blinked.

"I'm not nervous, I'm just-"

"Tell you wha **t** ," he interrupted. "Why don't you come visit me sometime outside of this, ah, arrangement that we got here?" he learned forward, hands still resting in his lap, his murky gaze shifted up at her. "Maybe you'll be _less_ nervous.”

Harleen looked down at him. She swore that she could see a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. _Stop it, Harleen._

"Mister J, I am not nervous," she responded calmly, "I'd prefer if you cooperated during our sessions.” She reached for the tape recorder and with a snap, the cassette stopped rolling. The Joker quipped a brow at her, intrigued. Without thinking, she blurted " _Please_ drop the act, Mister J. This game isn't going to work on me. We both know why you're here." She paused, searching for her hook. "I want to work **with** you."

Joker's brows raised, amused. He pulled away and readjusted in his seat. He chuckled lightly, "Ah, I **like** you, Dr. Quin _ **z** el_."

Harleen shook her head, biting her tongue in annoyance. "Mister J, our session is over," she said curtly as began to pack her belongings back into her mahogany-stained briefcase. She stood from the table and began walking to the door, the sound of her four-inch heels punctuating the stale air.

"Hey-" Joker called. She whipped around.

"Gimme a smile, won't ya, Do **c**?"

Against her better judgement, Harleen bared her teeth in the fakest smile that she could muster before promptly exiting the room to the sound of Joker's cackling.

" _Bastard_ ," she huffed under her breath as she stomped to the elevator.

She reached the bottom of the stairway. She pressed her thumb against finger pad and quickly punched in the access code to the lower decks. She walked quickly through the dark corridor, tucking a strand of loose hair that slipped out of her bun behind her ear. She made a left, then a sharp right. She reached the elevator. She got in, and pressed "LL." It descended loudly and hit the bottommost level with a _thunk_. She ran out and turned right. She could feel her hands beginning to sweat.

There he was. She could see him lying on his cot, hands folded behind his head, his eyes drifting as he stared at the ceiling. He was shirtless, his bright orange pants loosely hanging from his narrow hips. _Harleen,_ she could hear herself pleading.

She walked up to the cell bars. _Don't do this, Harleen. Harleen? Harleen, please, don't do this_.

Before she could say a word, his gaze turned to the bars. She could see a smile crawl onto his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed? Disliked? Frustrated? Annoyed? Would love to hear all of it as I develop my writing in this fandom. Sending love.


End file.
